


But now that I found you (Together we will make history)

by 18lou16harry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 18th Century, Anal Sex, Ancient Greece, Fluff, History, Immortality, M/M, Middle Ages, Pain, Pirates, Smut, Violence, World War 2, but i will mention it in the notes, eternal love, historic love, history au, idk what else to put here rip, it's gonna be canon at the end, there might be others, there's a major character death on the prologue, time travelling, x factor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18lou16harry/pseuds/18lou16harry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “In the name of Zeus, and by the power of Olympus, I condemn you for the murder of Patroklos.” He summoned the power of the Gods, digging his blade deeper as Louis stared right back into his eyes. He wished he could understand, he wished he could have listened but all he could think about was the moment the most important thing in his life was taken away from him. “I condemn you to feel the ache of the loss I felt, to watch your loved ones die before your eyes,” Achilles continued, the purest form of anger radiating off of him while Louis felt himself loosing conscience. “…For eternity.” <i></i></i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Or the time travelling AU everyone needed where Louis is an immortal who tries not to fall in love with Harry every time he meets him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 8th century BCE || prologue

“Do you really have to do this?” His eyes looked up to meet his, fingers lightly grazing up and down his lover’s skin. He could feel the goose bumps under his touch, a breeze swirling inside the room and refreshing their warm bodies. The sun wasn’t entirely up yet, they still had time before sunrise, but he wished it was forever stopped. He didn’t want him to leave.

“I do.” Louis replied, his lids fluttering. His eyes, blue like the sea in Hecatombaeon, locked with his, shimmering with stars even under the darkness. “They need me.”

“But…” Harry whispered before pursing his lips, feeling the tears prickling his eyes just at the thought. “You could die.”

“It’s war, love.” He gave him a small smile with a shrug, clearly trying to lighten the tension in the room, heavy with fear and apprehension, chilling cold but also mixed with the tender warmth of their love. 

It was their last day together and they weren’t ready.

When Louis was recruited by Priam to command Troy’s army along side Hektor, he was immediately torn in two, knowing full well that he had no other choice than to follow his king’s order and leave his life behind, and that included Harry. Every time he’d look at those jade stone eyes, he’d feel his heart clench so tightly as if an iron fist was wrapped around it, knowing it was just a matter of time before he had to let him go. The fearful thought tortured the younger man too, dreading for his lover to leave and never come back. It’d kill him. 

It was raining when Louis left their home, droplets harshly hitting his face but he welcomed the stinging pain and the freezing cold. He could feel his feet go numb, cold water sloshing around and his sandals weren’t the best protection. But he didn’t mind it. It made him momentarily forget the pain in his heart, that one was worse than any wound or illness in the world. 

Localising Hektor’s main domain, he nodded at the soldier standing by the doors before entering the house. Several men in armours or robes were already inside, conversing in the halls of the massive habitation, coming in and out of rooms. He could hear the distinct sound of women’s laughter from upstairs and the soft padding of their feet on the wooden floors. 

“Louis.” The young man turned around when he heard his name, eyes falling on an imposing man wearing a pristine white robe, short curly brown hair framing his heavily bearded face. His name was Liam, Troy’s brigadier and the general’s right hand man. He was the one that suggested Louis to be the regiment’s colonel and lead the troupes to victory against the Greeks. “For Apollo’s sake, why are you so late?” A sour taste came to Louis’ mouth, trying his hardest to supress the picture of Harry sleeping in their bed, sheets tangled around his feet and curly brown hair a mess around his head. 

“Last minute engagements.” Louis replied, voice strained and raspy. “Where’s the general?” Liam tilted his head towards the room he had just came out from, starting to head back in.

“Follow me.”

 

 

Louis had one order, help kill Patroklos before the Trojan army was entirely defeated. The loss of their best warrior, Sarpedon, to the hands of Patroklos felt like a burning wound in their hearts and when the murderer found himself defenseless in front of him, Louis dug his spear into his chest. He watched Hektor give the fatal blow and the fight was celebrated in triumph until the next morning, when his commander was found dead on the streets, throat sliced open by the hands of Achilles himself.

“You _killed ___him!” Achilles yelled as he gripped at Louis’ robe. He had chained both his wrists to wooden posts, knees digging into the burning, harsh soil of the Greek camp. “Hektor paid for his crime.” The legendary warrior continued, his gold armour shimmering under the heavy sun and blinding Louis. He could feel the warm droplets of sweat rolling down his skin, prickling his eyes and stinging his wounds. He knew he was going to die. But all he could think about was Harry. He was glad he wasn’t here to see him. “But I will not fully avenge the death of Patroklos until I made _you ___suffer, Louis of Troy.” Achilles spat in Louis’ face, features contorted in anger. “I will make you feel the worse of tortures. I will rid you of all that is worthy to you.” Achilles yelled and Louis’ eyes widened in fear. “And I will make you feel this pain for the rest of your life.” The warrior finished, leaning away from Louis, eyes ice cold as he stared back at his prisoner.

__Louis watched Achilles sign to one of his fellow soldier, two of them making their way through the crowd Greek warriors as they dragged another man towards Achilles. Louis felt his stomach drop, blood turning instantly cold in horror as he realized the man they were dragging was Harry. _My Harry! ___He was terrified, green eyes red in tears, hair disheveled and multiple bruises traced his body as he stared back at Louis._ _

___“No!” Louis yelled, breathing frantically as he fought against his chains to no avail, heart beating to the point it hurt to live, watching his Harry being held hostage in the middle of a Greek camp, trembling like a leaf, while Louis had no power to save him. But he had to. “Do not touch him!” He cried, the metal of his handcuffs slicing his wrists in his efforts to free himself. He watched in horror as the men pushed Harry to his knees, harshly gripping the once luscious brown locks to hold his head down. “Stop! Please, stop!” Louis begged, tears obstructing his sight but he could hear Harry’s loud sobs and his own pleas to keep him alive._ _ _

___“You will feel the pain!” Achilles said out loud again, taking out his glaive, the metal slicing the air like lightening._ _ _

___“I beg of you!” Louis desperately screamed, pulling on his chains frantically, but Harry was too far away, and he could hear him call for him._ _ _

___“ _Louis, Louis, Louis… ___” Each time Harry said his name, Louis felt like a part of his soul was taken away. He could no longer feel the pain of his bleeding wrists and scratched knees, but the ache in his heart was burning him from the inside, destroying him. And when he watched Achilles’ sword end the life of the only man he had ever loved, Louis felt as if his heart was ripped away from him, taking away with it the last string of life he had left in him. “ _NO! ___” Was all he could yell, air being knocked out of him in a gut wrenching ache as he watched the lifeless body in front of him, eyes stuck on the atrocious scenery in utter petrification._ _ _

_____Harry was gone._ _ _ _ _

_____The whole world felt silent, slowed down in a terrifying moment as he felt all energy leave his body, limply collapsing on the dirt. He kept his eyes on the love of his life, wanting nothing more than to die. He deserved to die for what he did to Harry. He couldn’t support living in this world knowing the purest soul was killed because of his own actions. Louis wanted to die._ _ _ _ _

_____He watched Achilles approach him before he gripped his hair to pull him up. He couldn’t feel the pain. He was numb, he didn’t feel human anymore. He was a monster. Being alive felt worse than dying. “Louis of Troy,” Achilles started, placing his blade under Louis’ jaw, cutting the skin lightly enough that a single droplet of blood ran down the swords’ length. “In the name of Zeus, and by the power of Olympus, I condemn you for the murder of Patroklos.” He summoned the power of the Gods, digging his blade deeper as Louis stared right back into his eyes. He wished he could understand, he wished he could have listened but all he could think about was the moment the most important thing in his life was taken away from him. “I condemn you to feel the ache of the loss I felt, to watch your loved ones die before your eyes,” Achilles continued, the purest form of anger radiating off of him while Louis felt himself loosing conscience. “ _…For eternity. ___”_ _ _ _ _

______Louis didn’t have the time to process Achilles’ last words before he felt the cursed blade cut thought his throat and beaming light blind him._ _ _ _ _ _


	2. 16th Century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait xx

Louis felt like he was drowning, heavy amounts of water, thick with dirt filled his mouth and nose, waking him up in a choking fit. The taste was absolutely foul and he immediately sat up to empty his stomach, the acidic bile burning his aching throat. It took him a while to properly breathe, the heavy rain soaking him from head to toe and cleaning the disgusting mud staining his body and toga. He tried to stand up, the ground being slippery but he managed to hold himself on his feet, only to crouch down as he felt a burning pain on his neck.

 _I feel pain?_ His eyes shot open as a sudden realization hit him. He felt pain? Wasn’t he dead? His eyes scanned his surroundings as his body stayed immobile in fear. He didn’t recognize this place and it looked nothing like the Greek camp. Is this how the underworld looked like? The grown was muddy, the air was foul and several modest houses with roofs of hay surrounded him. This didn’t look like Troy either, or any Greek city he had ever been to. _Then where in Zeus’ name was he?_

Louis heard loud laughter behind him and in a quick jump he hid further down a small alley between two houses, spotting a series of hooks hung on the dirty walls. He quickly took one, holding it tightly in his fist as he waited for the voices to grow closer. He could see the light of their torch and leaned a bit to get a better look at these people. Two young men were walking, wearing absurd piles of dark clothing and laughing loudly, hands clutching iron pints of wine and a lantern. Louis’ insides twisted in fear, the new environment being unsettling but he had to know where he was and these men were going to help him.

When they got close enough, Louis left his hidden spot and in a matter of seconds, he was holding one of them by the throat, hook dangerously close to the men’s neck while the other the one watched in horror, drinks spilling on the floor with loud clings.

“What do yo-” The man who was free started to ask before Louis clutched the hook tighter on his friend’s throat, a weak cry escaping the blond man’s trembling lips.

“Where am I?” Louis asked, eyes set hardly on the other man whose face gradually looked familiar. If it weren’t for the hood over his head darkening his features he could have recognized him but even the strange fireball didn’t illuminate the night enough. “Where am I?” He repeated forcefully, seeing the other man watching him strangely as if he didn’t understand Louis. The blond one still tried to fight back, though having no chance to free himself under Louis’ tight hold. “Are you listening to me? Tell me where I am or you friend dies!” Louis repeated, still getting a confused silence from the stranger until something seemed to have clicked in him.

“You speak Greek?” The stranger replied, making Louis frown in confusion. Why was he asking that? Of course he spoke Greek, he was from Greece for Zeus’ sake!

“You’re not answering me!” Louis yelled back, digging the hook only slightly inside the man’s neck, eyes blazing as he stared at the stranger. The blonde man started yelling something to his friend in an incomprehensible language to Louis and panicked, the stranger seemed to be searching for his words.

“This, hum-This...is England?” The stranger’s greek accent was rusty and unsure, but he finally gave an answer which left Louis more lost than anything else.

“England?” Louis whispered, mind running wild to think of where that place could be. Where was this England? Probably over the sea, in the south. But he had been there and had never heard of this place. His thoughts, though, were cut short once he felt a mass hardly hit the back of his head, his whole body collapsing backwards in the dirty mud, unconscious.

 

 

 

“What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t.”

“And why was he attacking you?”

“Listen, Charlotte, I told you I didn’t know, alright?” Loud whispers woke Louis up, his head aching and hurtfully pounding after being hit so harshly earlier. It took time for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings, a single light illuminated the rather dark room and he could see figures standing over him, speaking in a language he didn’t understand. His throat felt raw and he coughed loudly enough for the voices to hush, all attention drawn on him. One of the voices spoke up and a few minutes later, a cup of water was brought to his lips. He welcomed the cold drink without a blink, drinking it in a matter of seconds before being brought a second one. His sight became better and he noticed he was laying down on a pile of hay, three people were staring at him from their seat on small wooden stools. He recognized them as being the men from the street, the last one being a woman wearing the weirdest outfit, costume more like, he had ever seen in his entire life. She sensed his confused stare and in an annoyed ‘humpf’, exited the room in quick steps.

“Where am I?” Louis said quietly, starting to stand up which earned a defensive reaction from the two other men. He stopped his movements, waiting for them to calm down before sitting up properly on the hay. It felt itchy, pricking at his skin under his clothes but it was better than the cold, muddy ground. He didn’t recognize the feel of his toga and looked down at what he was wearing, eyes widening in horror. “What in Zeus’ name is this?” He gasped, lifting the white garment covering his upper body and looking down at the hideous leather covering his legs.

“Uh-uhm..Those are pants.” One of the man spoke up, finally in a language Louis could understand.

“Pants? What are pants? Where’s my toga? Why did you remove it?” He pressed, angry that he was removed from his personal clothing and that these man had a look at his whole naked body without shame.

“They were dirty. Charlotte went to clean them. We gave you other clothes.” Besides his weird accent, the man’s Greek wasn’t so bad and unintelligible. Glad that his garments were being taken care of, Louis calmed himself down, but still trying to comprehend how he ended up in this place.

“I attacked you. You took me as your prisoner.” Louis said and the man shook his head, face still covered by the shadow of his hood.

“No. You are not our prisoner.” He removed his hood and his friend followed, their faces being revealed by the light above them. Louis felt his body stiffen in shock, eyes opening wide as he recognized the brunet man before him.

“Liam? Is that you?” The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, eyes bulging as he didn’t understand how in God’s name this stranger knew him.

“Oi, you know each other?” The blonde one asked Liam in confusion, looking at his friend and waiting for an explanation as to why he was being attacked by a confused Greek in the middle of the night.

“We don’t…” Liam replied to his friend, suspiciously staring at the stranger who seemed both relieved and perplexed to see him. “Who are you?” Liam asked him in Greek and the stranger looked to find his question incredibly stupid.

“ _Who am I_? Liam, I’m Louis of Troy. Quit playing and tell me why are we in this…this En..” The stranger, or Louis as he called himself, seemed to be searching for his words.

“England?” Liam helped and Louis nodded.

“Yes. England. Why are we here? Where are our troops?” Louis questioned, getting a dumbfounded look from Liam. “How far are we from Troy? What about Ha-” Air left his lungs when the memories of his lover flashed in his mind. A burning sting could be felt on his neck and his heart ached intensely. _Harry, his Harry_. If he was dead, where was his Harry? Was _Louis_ even dead?

“Hey, are you okay?” Liam spoke up after a long moment of thick silence, watching Louis turn sickly white. He hoped the blow Charlotte gave him when she saved them hadn’t ruined his head and caused him to get sick suddenly. “Niall bring me the bucket please.” The blonde lad stood up quickly, reaching for the bucket and placing it next to the stranger. Liam held his hair while Louis emptied his stomach, feeling a sudden empathy for the stranger. It was concerning how he felt around the smaller man, as if he knew him already yet he knew he had never seen him in his life. Then why did he feel like he was taking care of an old friend?

Louis felt lifeless, low grunts escaping his body as he collapsed back on the hay. Images of Harry kept flashing in his mind, memories of his smile, the music of his laugh, the softness of his eyes when they laid in their bed early in the morning with the sun caressing his skin. He remembered the lavender smell of his hair, how his auburn curls would bounce around when they walked by the rivers near his home. He remembered his innocence, his gentleness with others or when he would wrap his arms around Louis. But he also remembered their last day together, and how a frown wrinkled Harry’s face throughout the whole night, scared of what would happen. He remembered the terrified look in his once joyful eyes when they brought him in front of Achilles. He remembered everything. The ache felt like poison filling his veins and killing him on the inside. His body was very much alive, but his soul and his heart were agonizing.

“I think we should let him be for the night.” Niall suggested, looking at Liam for approbation. The stranger looked lifeless, not like the furious man who had attacked them earlier.

“I agree. I’ll lock the door before leaving.” Liam replied and Niall nodded, leaving the empty stable while Liam covered Louis with a blanket, leaving the lantern by his side before leaving too. Louis sensed that he was alone and he felt grateful for that, holding his legs close to his chest as tears ran down his cheeks, his body trembling under the covers.

He didn’t sleep at all that night. Or the following one. He kept his eyes open for three days, scared of letting himself being consumed by horrible nightmares involving Harry. He didn’t want to be alive, he wanted to die but he didn’t seem to feel weaker. He hadn’t eaten for days now but he didn’t feel hungry or exhausted. It was even more painful for him to not be able to punish himself, whatever Achilles had done to him was already not only hard to comprehend, but also unbearable. Why couldn’t he just _die_.

On the fourth day, the young maiden had to forcefully feed him, angrily muttering things in her language while Louis kept refusing to open his mouth until she pulled at his hair and he obliged. On the fifth day, he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore and accepted the warm soup without complaining. On the sixth, He had started to understand a few words in their language, Liam helping him a little bit. He still didn’t understand how he ended up in this country named England and why Liam was here, with shorter hair and beard, but he was thankful that he was with one familiar presence. Though Liam took care of him, he still felt as if he kept himself distant and always seemed to have his mind else where. He didn’t understand why Liam couldn’t recognize him and how he had forgotten most of his Greek. Though Louis realized that talking with these people helped him forget about Harry’s death and he grew desperate to have someone to talk to. Even if he wasn’t talking much and his Greek was rusty, Liam was still good enough for Louis.

On the seventh day, Louis went outside. He had been left alone for several hours, mind lost staring at the few sunrays piercing through the wooden roof of the empty stable. He didn’t understand why there weren’t any horses here, wherever here was. His curiosity took the best of him and he had left the quiet place and found himself in the middle of a round pitch, surrounded by other similar stables. The land was circled by a tall wall made of out of stakes. The only exit was a single tunnel in a massive stone wall whose size was greater than the stables’ pitch, but Louis was too small to find out what it was protecting.

He could see people on the other side of the tunnel, hesitant to cross the border between the quiet stables and the real world. But he had to know where he was and why he ended up here, instead of being dead. Taking a deep breath, he slowly walked through the dark tunnel, nervously playing with a loose cord from his top (Liam said it was called a shirt and that sleeves were covering his arms), a nagging lump of anxiety caught in his throat. As he approached the exit, the sound from what looked like a small city grew louder. People were yelling in their weird language (“it’s called English” Liam had said), he could hear horses walking and carriers rolling on the dirty ground. He stopped right at the exit, staring silently at the lively city in front him.

Only one thought came to his mind and it was that this place was absolutely ugly. Nothing like the clean and colourful city of Troy. This place was dirty, muddy, the people smelled awful and yelled like dogs. Everyone seemed to be wearing the same dresses and costumes in the blandest colours, nothing like the pristine togas from his country. Everything from this place looked so grey, as if the Gods painted these people grey. Their faces were grey, their clothes were grey, their food looked grey. It was overall pretty depressing and Louis was extremely disappointed.

Though, his depressing surroundings made him realize that Liam and Niall looked nothing like these people. They were cleaner, their clothes were better, more colourful for sure than these people. He concluded that they might have been of a higher class. He didn’t know how things worked here, but he was glad he found people who looked to be of his rank. Louis started walking again, eyes scanning the whole area that extended over hills far away. He did recognize the houses as the ones where he woke up a few days ago, but what struck him the most was an immense temple of some sort right at the top of the hill.

A stone bridge separated it from the city as it supplanted the whole area by it’s imposance. It didn’t look like a typical temple per say, not like the ones from Troy, but it was still pretty mesmerizing to look at. It was made entirely of white stones, making it shine over the hill like a diamond with a vibrantly azure roof. Whoever housed this temple must be the richest man alive, Louis thought. Curiosity taking over him, he felt it was his duty to announce himself to the leader and maybe, just maybe, he could help him get back home.

The path over the massive building was long and rough, the boots Liam gave him not preventing the rocks to prick at his feet and his walk was wobbly. He could feel the stares of several people, or peasants as he concluded. They weren’t rich, they were dirty and Louis didn’t care about them, not sparing them a glance. The lack of sleep didn’t help him and he felt tired only after a few minutes, droplets of sweat rolling down his skin as a blazing sun burned the ground under him. Far away, he could see a cloud of dirt approaching and a hoof noise made itself clearer and clearer as the horse approached, ridden by none other than Liam. Louis stopped his pace, catching his breathe as he waited for Liam to be close enough to recognize him and maybe he could help Louis. Liam’s eyes glanced mindlessly at the man standing in the middle of the road before double checking and realizing it was Louis. He halted his horse, staring perplexed at the smaller man in dishevelled clothes looking up at him with a thin smile.

“Louis, what are you doing here?” He asked, getting down from his horse. He approached Louis who seemed to be recovering from the long walk, body drenched in sweat.

“I would like to visit the temple.” Louis announced, mentioning at the monument with a tilt of his chin and Liam’s brows furrowed in confusion, looking back at the castle quickly.

“You want to…-what? It’s a castle, not a temple.” He explained to Louis who seemed completely clueless. “That’s where the King and his family live. You can’t just decide to visit.”

“King? Is that how you call your rulers?” Liam nodded and Louis kept his eyes on the castle, admiring its architecture. He didn’t understand how humans could have built that, if the whole population of England looked just like the one from the city below. “Why can’t I visit? I would like to announce myself. “

Liam shook his head, trying hard not to laugh at how absurd this all was. Louis still didn’t explain how he ended up here and why. It was puzzling how the Greek man knew almost nothing about their civilization. He’s been to Greece several times in his life and things were pretty similar to here. He hoped the blow Charlotte gave him didn’t supress his memory entirely. “You can’t just barge inside the castle like this Louis, or they’ll kill you.” Louis gasped, looking mildly offended.

“But I am Louis of Tro-“

“Yes I know.” Liam cut him off, chuckling lightly and Louis huffed, annoyed. “If you want to announce yourself you’ll have to be accompanied by me and…get cleaned up.” He stared at Louis up and down, this last one glancing down at his attire.

“What’s wrong with my attire?” Liam laughed, walking back to his horse and mentioning that Louis should follow him. He let the smaller man climb behind him, clenching the reins tighter.

“Just hold tight.” He spoke, smirking as he looked over his shoulder at a tired Louis.

“I rode more dangerous horses Liam, please shut up.” Louis replied, making his friend laugh loud and clear before he headed the horse back towards the city.

Louis was glad that he didn’t have to walk all the way back there and the breeze from the ride was welcomed under the heat. He couldn’t understand how Liam could survive with the amount of clothing he was wearing, but he guessed that he must have been used to it. His spot on the horse gave him a better view of his surroundings and he saw that the stone wall was surrounding most of the city and stopped by a lake, right next to the castle. Other houses could be seen over the hills covering miles and miles of land. Whoever that King was, he looked incredibly wealthy and powerful, and Louis was excited to meet him.

“How do you know the King?” Louis asked Liam as they turned a corner, taking a different path from the stables and entering the depths of the city.

“We’re close friends.” Liam answered. “We work together, with Niall and other Earls to help the King rule the country. England is one of the greatest lands and has to be managed correctly, and also protected at all cost.”

“Protected from who?” Louis wondered, Liam leading them to a cleaner part of the city. The houses were a lot bigger, less decrepit and surrounded by gardens. Some of them looked like smaller versions of the castle while others were larger and well maintained.

“The French.” Liam said, the words sounding bitter in his mouth. Louis frowned, once again the lack of knowledge about this country frustrating him. He felt like he was on another planet entirely. With this England and these French and their castles and _earls_ , whatever that was.

The horse entered a massive property, Liam stopping them in front of the doors and several men came to help them get down and lead the horse away. Louis followed his friend inside the smaller castle, eyes opening wide in front of such opulence. Red and blue tapestries covered the walls, enormous paintings and sculptures decorated the hallways and the floors were made of white marble. A staircase was set right in the middle of the entrance hall, splitting in two and leading to the second floor. The whole room was illuminated by the sun piercing through massive, coloured windows who adorned a beautiful pattern representing a rose. “Are you going to stand here all day or..?” Louis heard Liam speak, snapping him back to reality and he turned to his friend, eyes still wide in admiration.

“Is this where you live?” He asked and Liam nodded, a smile curling his lips.

“This land and this mansion belongs to my family, yes. I’ll give you a tour later though, we have things to take care of if you want to meet the king.” He pressed Louis to follow him up the stairs and into several hallways until they stopped in front of an imposing wooden door. “I was actually going to pick you up from the stables and bring you here sooner, but I was scared you could be an enemy and didn’t want to take the risk. Now knowing that you are trustworthy, thought a little confused, I would like to invite you stay here. With me and my wife.”

Louis smiled properly for the first time in ages, feeling a weight lift off his shoulder knowing that he found a place where he could be at peace. _Finally_. He understood perfectly Liam’s point, and he was glad he earned his trust. This place was amazing and though he was mentally still in pain, he was earning to get a proper night of sleep. He knew nightmares were waiting for him, but he was too exhausted to keep on.

Liam spent the remaining of the day showing Louis around, this last one impressed by all the luxury Liam had in his house. Though the walls were made of stone, they were covered in colourful tapestries, gold patterns decorating the red velvet and large windows illuminated the hallways and the several rooms. Maids walked past them, politely greeting Liam and Louis could see them eyeing him weirdly, hearing their confused whispers as they walked away. They finally entered the dinning room, a massive place with dark furniture, the long wooden table in the middle taking most of the space and the heavy chandeliers above them casting a soft, dim light. Marble statues stood in the corners, the structures catching Louis’ eyes immediately and one in particular made a stinging pain burn the side of his neck.

“ _Achilles_.” The white, pristine and beautiful sculpture portrayed Achilles laying on the ground, naked except for a toga covering his legs and his infamous helmet over his head. A look of pain contorted the statue’s face, the resemblance to the hero was shocking and it made Louis’s stomach churn.

“Bought that one on my second trip to Greece. Cost me a little fortune.” Liam chuckled beside Louis, admiring the sculpture before diverting his eyes on the shorter man. He frowned as he watched Louis pale suddenly, fingers rubbing the side of his neck where he knew a scar was. A war scar Liam had guessed.

“Who made it?” Louis asked, eyes glued on Achilles’ portray, hypnotized by the pain in the details of the marble. He wanted to know everything about the statue.

“Oh, I do not know.” Liam shrugged. “Though the merchant told me it portrayed Achilles’ death. For some reason,” He stared intently at the sculpture, remembering the day he saw it among the hundreds of other masterpieces. “I was pulled to it. I felt like I _had_ to buy it.”

“Achilles is dead?” Louis gasped quietly, eyes snapping to look at Liam in confusion before staring back at the statue. Achilles’ hand was directed towards his right heel and Louis remembered the tales of how Thetis had dipped her son in the Styx river to make him immortal, but only his heel remained his weakness. “How did he die?”

“Paris shot him in the heel with an arrow. It was his weakness and he died right away, I,ve read.” Liam explained and Louis felt like he was going to explode. Achilles was dead. Paris shot him. A sudden sense of relief flooded him, he was avenged, Harry was avenged. But how was Achilles dead, but not him? What did his enemy do to him? How was he supposed to get answers in this unknown land? Torn in two, Louis stepped back from the statue, both widely relieved to hear about Achilles death, but now he felt like the only one who could have given him answers was gone.

“I-I need to rest.” He muttered, eyes looking down as his mind run wild with questions. He was shocked, living in a world where Achilles was dead, that it seemed completely normal to Liam. He needed to think, he needed to sleep or he knew he would go mad.

“You're sure? I haven’t finished the tour yet.”

“Yes. Please.” Liam nodded, leading Louis back to his new room. Laying on the soft mattress felt heavenly to Louis, reminding him of his own bed in Harry and his home in Troy. Once again, the happy memory made his heart bleed in pain, a constant reminiscing that it won’t ever happen again. His whole life was Harry and his world now felt shattered, broken into the tiniest pieces of glass with nothing to bring him back into shape.

The night was eventful, dark dreams of that day playing over and over again, always ending in blinding light after Achilles’ arm cuts through Louis’ throat. For moment he would see Harry beaming beneath him in their modest house, the other second his lifeless green eyes, dull and sad would look back at him. And he would cry and cry, beg for mercy, beg to have his lover back while Achilles looked down on him, a vicious smirk curling his lips. He woke up with the first sunrays the next morning, drenched in sweat and heart beating like a hammer. He couldn’t contain the sob that escaped his lips, clutching the sheets tighter around him, reaching with no avail for someone to hold, a familiar warm body next to him. But all there was was the cold, right side of the bed.

 

 

 

What Liam hadn’t told Louis was that he spent countless hours in his personal library, searching for answers. Too many things made no sense about the Greek man. Louis clearly only knew how to speak Greek yet did not know about the death of Achilles? And he claimed to be from Troy, yet he knew the city was destructed centuries ago. He went through book after book, trying to find something, anything that could help him understand. He went several times to Greece for political reasons and had a great deal of ancient and recent literature, knowing Greek enough to understand his readings but none of the historical books he had around him talked about the city of Troy and barely referenced to Achilles. He sighed, leaning back on his chair and rubbing his eyes. It was getting late and he still was going nowhere with his research. He tried remembering what the merchant go sold him the statue said about it, the memory last from 3 years ago and blurry in his mind.

_“The real one. Found it in ruins.” The old merchant had said, admiring the beautiful statue with Liam. “One of a kind, portraying Achilles death.”_

_“By Paris, right?” Liam had inquired and the man chuckled._

_“You know your Iliad, I see.” He had said, surprised. “Not usual from foreigners.”_

_“I was briefly introduced to it.” Liam had shrugged his shoulders._

Eyes opening wide, Liam snapped back to reality, the memory sticking him. The Iliad. Why didn’t he think of it before? He knew the tale narrated the story of the Trojan War and felt stupid for not remembering that fact. He sadly didn’t have a copy with him, but he knew there was one in the castle. Glancing outside his window, he could see the moon high up in the dark sky and he thought it was time to sleep. He was bringing Louis to the castle in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sources: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achilles ; http://www.livescience.com/38191-ancient-troy.html ; http://www.hellenic-art.com/achilles-wounded-en.html


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